


When a Plan Comes Together

by Frequently_Humming



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - The A-Team, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frequently_Humming/pseuds/Frequently_Humming
Summary: "Now, I don't want anything thinking I've gone sane--,""No one thinks that, weirdo," Rose grunted from under the hood of the van."--but I think Poe's left some of his marbles back in Cali," Bastian finished casually, continuing his yo-yo miming and executing a neat elevator trick."What gave you that impression?  The gun-slinging shootout?  The barrels of dynamite?  The fifty-pound bags of flour," Iolo listed off, handing over a phillips head screwdriver when Rose thrust a hand his way."No, no, that's all fine," Bastian dismissed, walking the dog and strolling over to the stacks of chicken wire.  "But where's the sprinkles?""Did you check behind the fertilizer?""Man, if you don't stop encouraging him, I'm going to pop you one," Rose threatened mildly, not seeing Iolo's careless shrug but hitting him in the stomach with a wrench to be safe.
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Iolo Arana & Bastian, Poe Dameron & Finn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	When a Plan Comes Together

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to 2021!
> 
> This story came to me all at once, and I'm really enjoying writing it. I hope you get a kick out of it too.
> 
> You can read this story without having seen the A-Team TV show or movie, no problem. There are throwback references because I couldn't help myself but you'll understand the plot and characters without catching the little bits and pieces :)

_In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison_

_by a military court for a crime they didn't commit._

_These men promptly escaped from a maximum-security stockade_

_to the Los Angeles underground._

_Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune._

_If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them..._

_maybe you can hire The A-Team._

_~ The A-Team Opening Narration: TV Run from 1982 to 1987_

_**October 1982**_

“—and I know I sound paranoid,” Finn continued in a rush, his arms crossed against the cold, damp wind whipping across the jetty, “because everyone from that man at the dry cleaners to the bartender at the speakeasy told me.”

“Sounds like you’ve been talkin’ to a lot o’ folks,” the man in the bright yellow raincoat mentioned in a lazy drawl, not looking up from the spot where his fishing line disappeared into the bay.

Finn exhaled heavily, glancing back to his bicycle propped against the railing at the end of the short, narrow dock, thinking about the long ride back to his apartment, most likely in the rain, after another futile attempt. “Well, I guess it didn’t do me any good,” he allowed with a frown, looking at what he could see of the fisherman’s profile, only a peek of nose unobscured by a scarf and low-sitting cap. “I’m sorry I bothered you. You should probably head home soon if you don’t want to get soaked,” Finn offered as he started walking away. He made it two steps before his arm was caught in a surprisingly tight grip.

“What’s your hurry? A little rain never hurt no one,” the fisherman said without looking away from his fishing line.

“No, but the pneumonia isn’t a picnic,” Finn replied, forcing a small smile. “I’d offer you a ride, but my bike’s not big enough for the two of us.”

“That’s mighty kind o’ ya,” the fisherman chuckled, “but my handlebar-ridin’ days are behind me.”

“Same here,” Finn said, the smile coming a bit more easily. “I can help you pack up, if you need it.”

“Nah, that’s fine,” the fisherman answered before tossing his fishing pole over the side of the railing.

“What are you doing,” Finn asked concerned, staring as the fisherman picked up his bait box and hurled it into the bay.

“I won’t be needin’ it,” the fisherman responded carelessly.

“You said you came fishing every day,” Finn shot back, leaning over the railing and watching the fishing rod float away on the shallow, undulating waves and the box sink out of sight in the brackish water.

“And you said you wanted to hire the A-Team,” said an entirely different voice, and Finn spun around in time to see the fisherman remove his raincoat and the body padding attached to it. “Did you change your mind?”

“Uh,” Finn managed with a slack jaw while the fisherman pushed back his hat to reveal sharp, warm brown eyes and pulled down the thick gray knitted scarf to show straight bright white teeth framed by a smile. “Who the hell--,”

“Poe Dameron. Nice to meet you, Finn,” the other man added with a wink. “Now, you better meet the rest of the team and tell us all about it.”

“Wait, are you serious? You’re actually Colonel Dameron,” Finn pressed, hurrying to keep pace as the other man started moving in long, quick strides.

“I sure am. Don’t tell me; you expected someone taller,” Poe guessed with a smirk, raising his right hand over his head in a fist.

“N-no, I—kinda thought this was some kind of prank—fuck, look out,” Finn shouted as a black, unmarked van suddenly came careening out of the trees and down the dirt path, low-hanging branches snapping and flying in its wake. Without thinking, Finn grabbed Poe’s arm, wrenched him down and to the left, and dropped to cover him just as the van braked and swung to the right with a screech, stopping inches from Finn’s feet.

“Smooth moves there, bud,” Poe said, his voice a low rumble against Finn’s chest. Finn glanced quickly down to the colonel’s amused gaze and then back to the van as the side door popped and slid open.

“I don’t know about you, but I like this guy already,” declared the blonde man seated in the van, one hand on the door handle and the other supporting his weight on his knee. “It’s not everyday we get to see Boss Man tossed around like a ragdoll. You mind letting him up, Finn?”

“What is this,” Finn asked, rolling to his right and up to the balls of his feet, keeping low.

“This is the A-Team,” Poe supplied, accepting the blonde man’s outstretched hand and getting to his feet. “This is Lieutenant Iolo Arana,” he went on with a nod to the blonde.

“It’s a pleasure,” Iolo remarked with a dazzling smile and Finn narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“And this,” Poe continued as the driver side door opened and quickly slammed shut, “is Sergeant Rose Tico.”

“Sup,” came first the voice and then the form of a compact, mildly annoyed looking woman with short hair pulled back into two braids around the front of the van. “We doing this here or what?”

“Good point,” Poe acknowledged, looking around, and Finn instinctively did the same, scanning the surroundings, first the ground, then the trees. “Hop in, Finn, and we’ll get this show on the road.”

“What about my bike?”

“Put it in the back,” Poe shrugged, pulling open the passenger door and climbing in.

“Ah, come on, it’s gonna get mud all over my van,” Rose groaned, her scowl deepening.

“Not like we haven’t had worse,” Iolo mentioned, jumping out of the van and jogging over to Finn’s white bike.

Finn swallowed as Rose’s glower shifted from Iolo’s back to him. “Sorry,” he offered uncertainly. “We could put down a blanket or something?”

“Rose, Finn, get in the van,” Poe ordered without any edge to the words. Finn and Rose shared a quick look of comradery before following, Rose to the driver’s side and Finn into the backseat.

“Sirens, boss,” Iolo said lowly, rolling Finn’s bike and hauling it into the gap between the rows of seats. Attempting to help, Finn angled the bike into the back, shoving it between two large metal crates.

Rose keyed the ignition and Iolo was barely inside before the van was reversing in a splurge of mud. Iolo let out a huff, rolling his eyes and slamming the door shut while Finn grabbed at the dangling handle on the ceiling of the vehicle.

Poe’s eyes met Finn’s in the rearview mirror, and Finn gulped at the slightly manic glint in the colonel’s look. “Hang on, buddy, we’re going to take the scenic route.”

“Is that the police,” Finn asked over the roar of the engine as Rose shifted into drive and floored it. The telltale high-pitch wailing was just audible behind them while Rose steered the van along the shoreline.

“Military police,” Poe commented carelessly, his eyes rolling over to the side mirror.

“We’re a bit above the average police force’s paygrade,” Iolo simpered, his blindingly bright smile never wavering as the van made a sudden right turn and Finn crashed back into his seat. “So, you think your friend is in trouble, is that right?”

“What,” Finn gawked, staring as the blonde man pulled out a small leatherbound notebook from the inside pocket of his olive-green parka and then a small pencil.

“Mr. Lee from the laundromat,” Poe called over his shoulder while bending over the open glove compartment, “filled us in a little on your problem.”

Finn swallowed, looking from Iolo’s gleaming teeth to the rear window, where the flashing red lights on fast-approaching cars were illuminating the interior of the van, revealing a collection of small arms Finn had only ever seen in an armory.

“You’re all nuts,” Finn marveled, mostly to himself, but it drew three loud laughs.

“Buddy, you haven’t seen _nuts_ yet,” Iolo said, his smile finally softening into something believable and Finn felt the tension in his shoulders slacken, even as the van swerved to the left, followed immediately by a flurry of gunshots from behind.

“Okay, I think Ren’s had his fun,” Poe commented, twisting around and holding out two grenades. Finn inhaled deeply through his nose as Iolo carefully put his notebook and pencil away and took the grenades, one in each hand. “There’s are some solid trees coming up, Lo.”

“Yes, sir,” Iolo intoned mindlessly, slipping one of the grenades into his jacket pocket and then sliding open the side door. “Finn, you might want to get down and cover your ears—it’s gonna get a little loud,” the blonde shouted over another blast of gunfire.

Finn obliged by dropping to the floor, not taking his eyes off the lieutenant. The blonde twisted around, his right hand holding onto the edge of the door’s track, the rest of him leaning out of the van, swaying easily in sync with the erratic twists and turns of the van as Rose executed evasive maneuvers.

“Three,” Poe called and Iolo pulled the pin out of the grenade with his teeth. “Two.” Iolo’s eyes narrowed in concentration, not flinching as a tree branch grazed his shoulder. “One!”

Iolo threw the grenade, ducking back into the cabin to spit out the pin and bracing himself against the explosion that echoed through the woods. Finn lifted himself to his knees, carefully looking around his seat to the rear window, just in time to see a large tree crash down across the road behind the van, blocking two of the three military police cars. The third, the closest, continued unabated.

“Too close for the grenade,” Iolo stated, still riding half-in and half-out of the van. “Ren ate his Wheaties today, boss.”

“Ren? Colonel Kylo Ren,” Finn asked sharply. “Colonel Ren is chasing us right now?”

“Yep, are you two acquainted,” Iolo inquired, politely curious, lowering his head inside the van.

Finn frowned tightly. In one motion, he launched to his feet, grabbed the front of Iolo’s gingham button-up, and swung him around, switching places with the blonde, who tumbled to the floor with a surprised grunt.

“Buddy,” Poe began firmly, but Finn shook his head.

“Hand me the Glock,” Finn demanded, pointing at the gun resting on Poe’s thigh. After a searching look, Poe flipped the pistol around, handing it to Finn by the barrel. 

Finn took the grip, thumbed off the safety, and turned around. In three shots, the front tires of the police car burst and the car veered off the side of the road, directly into a tree, crashing to a halt.

“Thanks,” Finn grinned, switching the safety on and handing the gun off to Iolo, who took it with a thoughtful look. Finn sat down and pulled the side door close with a thud. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was a private.”

Rose, now driving straight, twisted around in the driver’s seat to stare at Finn.

“Neat trick, buddy,” Poe allowed, rubbing a hand over his chin. “I didn’t know the mess staff could shoot like that.”

Finn gulped. “You read my military files?”

“We vet everyone,” Iolo shrugged, gracefully leveling himself into the seat Finn had abandoned, the Glock swinging in his lax grip. “You might have noticed that the government is looking for us.”

“Thank God they never sent the mess on our trail,” Rose grumbled, straightening and navigating the van out of the forest and onto the paved highway with a double bump.

“I’ll say,” Poe concurred, notching his elbow on his seat’s headrest. “Did you fit in target practice between peeling potatoes?”

“Everyone in the army has basic training,” Finn retorted flatly, bristling at the blatant evaluating gaze roving over him.

“We both know that was more than basic training skills, Finn,” Poe smirked, cocking his left eyebrow.

“That’s classified,” Finn stated, raising his chin in challenge.

“How convenient. So are we,” Iolo chimed cheerfully, shooting a look at the colonel that Finn couldn’t decipher. 

Whatever that look from the lieutenant meant, the colonel understood. With a brisk nod, Poe said, “Okay, classified is the name of the game. Rose, take a right up here.”

“Aw hell no!”

“Take a right up here,” Poe repeated mildly, “and then the second left. Finn, you were telling us about your friend.”

“What, that’s it,” Finn asked, surprised and blinking.

“That’s it,” Poe confirmed. “We’ve all got secrets to keep.”

“And miles to go before we sleep,” Iolo added with another honest smile, tossing the remaining grenade back to Poe before drawing out his notebook and pencil again. “Now, Mr. Lee mentioned that you’re worried about a friend.”

Finn took a moment to inhale deeply and exhale fully before nodding. “Rey owns a ranch out in Wyoming. It’s about a hundred acres, bordering Yellowstone. It’s a working ranch but she also runs programs with local schools to teach kids about horses and cattle.”

“Sounds like a sweet setup,” Iolo acknowledged, scribbling quickly in his notebook. “Why do you think there’s trouble?”

“A couple weeks ago, she called me, saying that some people had come by, interested in buying the ranch from her. Offered her over a million to sell on the spot,” Finn said, frowning at the memory. “She said no, like she always does when she gets offers like that. But the next time she called, she sounded nervous. The next ranch over had burned down in a freak accident and the rancher up and left town, just abandoning everything in a day. And there had been another ranch fire last month, same circumstances.”

“And I’m guessing the land got picked up by the same people who had approached Rey, right,” Poe queried lightly.

“Right. She said she thought they would come by again. I thought she was scared but she wouldn’t tell me anything else. That was eight days ago and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Is that unusual? How often do you two talk,” Iolo asked, pursing his lips.

“Every Tuesday and Thursday at nineteen hundred,” Finn replied promptly. At Poe’s raised eyebrows, he added, “Rey likes schedules.”

“Sounds like a land-grabbing scheme to me,” Iolo said blandly, flipping to a fresh page and continuing to write. “Trying to buy up all the land in the area, using force when they don’t get the answer they like.”

“That’s our working hypothesis for now,” Poe agreed, turning back around and ruffling through the glovebox again. “Lo, we’ll be there soon. You better get dressed.”

“You got it,” Iolo said, passing his notebook to the colonel before crouching and shuffling to the back of the van, patting Finn on the shoulder as he passed.

“Where are we going,” Finn asked, leaning forward and squinting out the windshield, looking for any familiar landmarks.

“We’ve got to pick up the rest of the team,” Poe answered, adding his own scribbles to the blonde’s notebook. “Now, about our fee--,”

“Mr. Lee already gave me the ballpark,” Finn interrupted quickly.

“Well, Mr. Lee has a head for figures,” Poe allowed with an amused smirk. “But, of course, there’s the veteran discount--,”

“Boss,” Rose drew out warningly.

“—and you did shoot out Ren’s tires for us,” the colonel went on lightly, adding a few more marks to the page before turning the notebook around for Finn to see. “This is the new ballpark we’re looking at. Okay with you?”

Finn kept his face carefully blank as he looked over the itemized list of expenses and discounts. The final amount, circled, was still steep but… “That’s fine,” he confirmed as Iolo climbed back into his seat, now dressed in a short white lab coat and thick rimmed tortoise shell glasses.

“How do I look,” the lieutenant asked merrily, holding out his arms with that too-big smile.

Poe spared the blonde one glance before saying, “Your nametag is upside down.”

Quickly, Iolo flipped the little nameplate clipped to the pocket of the lab coat and Finn saw that it said ‘Richard Lawrence M.D.’

“What are we doing,” Finn tried again to get an answer.

“Breaking a--,” Rose started but the colonel interjected smoothly with,

“I told you, we need our fourth member. Where can we drop you, Finn?”

“Nowhere, I’m coming with you,” Finn dismissed instantly before asking, “what are we breaking?”

“Finn, it’s not our policy to bring the client into potentially dangerous situations,” Poe said gently as the van rolled to a stop, a tall chain link fence on the other side of the street. Poe passed a stethoscope to Iolo, who accepted it with a nod and then let himself out of the van, closing the side door as quietly as possible.

“I’m not some civilian who doesn’t know what to do when people start shooting,” Finn countered, crossing his arms. “Besides, Rey won’t give you the time of day if I’m not there. She doesn’t trust strangers.”

“In that case, why didn’t you white knight this on your own,” Poe asked, tilting his head in thought and scrutiny.

“Well,” Finn hesitated, scratching the side of his neck. “From what Rey was saying, it didn’t sound like a one-knight situation.”

“What about your unit,” Rose piped up, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, her eyes glued on the rearview mirror.

“That’s--,”

“—classified,” Poe finished for Finn with a shake of his head. “We went over that, sergeant.”

“Look, I won’t get in your way,” Finn wheedled, holding up his hands placatingly. “All I want to know is if Rey’s safe. How you deal with the bastards is your business.”

“I appreciate that, buddy, I really do,” Poe frowned in sympathy, “but we’re going to have enough moving parts without worrying about a combat-hardened soldier going rogue on us.”

“I’m not going to go rogue,” Finn snapped, scowling. “You’re the professionals; I’ll stay in my lane.”

“And if we get there and Rey is hurt or her house is up in flames? What are you going to do then,” Poe pressed. Finn stayed silent, knowing the answer, and the colonel sighed. “I’m sorry, Finn, but--,”

“They’re coming in hot,” Rose announced a second before spotlights suddenly lit up the fence and an alarm started blaring.

“Change of plan,” Poe rumbled, twisting to his right and throwing open the sliding door while Rose sped the van in reverse.

Already getting to be a habit, Finn grabbed the handle in one hand, his seat’s headrest with the other as the van shot backwards, braking hard when two men in white came sprinting into sight. Finn’s jaw dropped when he recognized Iolo by the passing beam of a spotlight, his coiffed hair in disarray by the time he reached the fence and pulled, revealing a slice in the chain links, just wide enough for first the lieutenant and then the second man in a straitjacket to slip through.

Iolo reached the van first, jumping in then pivoting and throwing out his arms, shouting, “Come to me, my precious!”

“What the fuck,” Finn breathed, just as the second man lunged into Iolo’s grasp.

“Gun it, Rose,” Poe grunted. The van jerked forward with a squeal and Iolo deposited the restrained man into the empty seat before slamming the door shut. “Report, lieutenant,” the colonel ordered in a clipped tone.

“Right as rain, boss,” Iolo chirped as he dodged thrashing legs. “Hey, Bas, cool it. Bas! We’re done running, pal. Come on, before you knock my teeth out.”

“Wooooo-whee, Lo! Did you see that?! Right outta the movies!”

“Are we doing alright, captain,” Poe asked as Iolo caught the cackling man’s legs under his right arm.

“Hunky-dory and whistling Dixie, colonel! Who’s this,” the straitjacketed man asked abruptly, turning wide, wild brown eyes on Finn.

“Captain, this is our new client, Finn. Finn, I’d like you to meet Captain Bastian Carmine. He’s the best pilot in the forces,” Poe added with a hint of warning as he eyed Finn.

Finn blinked twice and then looking back to see Bastian sitting up straight, his legs free from Iolo’s grasp but still bouncing. Iolo had moved behind the captain and was nimbly working on the straps of the straitjacket.

A throat cleared and Finn lifted his eyes to Bastian’s face. “Never seen a lunatic before,” the captain asked, clearly and kindly, the rowdy edge to his smile relaxing. “Don’t worry; we’re not all this dashingly handsome.”

With a surprised laugh, Finn eased his grip and slumped back against his seat. “Good, I was starting to worry,” he replied.

Bastian grinned. “I could see that but fear not! As a breed, we crazies come in all shapes and sizes. Speaking of, Lo, while you’re back there, are any of my fingers missing?”

“Take a look for yourself, bud,” Iolo answered, releasing the last strap of the straitjacket.

“I can’t bear it, Lo,” Bastian whined exaggeratedly, bowing his head as the jacket pooled around his hips. “What’s the verdict, doc?”

Iolo hummed. “Well, let me see here. I’m counting ten fingers, Bas. How many did you start with?”

“Cut it out, man,” Rose snapped, steering onto a narrow two-lane road. “Why do you always encourage him?”

“Aw, Rose, I missed you too,” Bastian gushed, shimmying the straitjacket down his legs and kicking it away. “Have you been pining? Declining? Weeping? Sniffling? Snickering?”

“I’m gonna punch you in the face if you come any closer,” Rose threatened fiercely and Bastian quickly leaned back into the seat, head swaying side to side like he was already dodging fists.

“Bastian, when was the last time you ate,” Poe asked, his eyes skimming over the captain’s form, the baggy green t-shirt looking at least two sizes too big in Finn’s opinion.

“Well, colonel, I can’t rightly say,” Bastian mused, considering as he stretched his arms out. “They slapped the coat on me after Billy bit the night nurse—and that was the same day the little green men came to lunch, and they never share the pudding--,”

“Were the little green men around for movie night,” Iolo inquired lightly, his thumbs rubbing circles against the captain’s shoulder blades.

“Nuh-uh, they came after that. It was _Wizard of Oz_ again,” Bastian groused with a slight, petulant pout.

“Two days,” Iolo directed to the colonel, who exhaled heavily through his nose.

“We’ll stop for food in a few hours,” Poe declared. “We need to get some distance between us and Ren.”

“Aw man, did I miss a Ren Ruse? How’s his footwork? Still working on that foxtrot,” Bastian asked, tilting his head back to beam up at the lieutenant.

“Yeah, buddy,” Iolo confirmed, sending an entirely different smile down to the captain’s upturned face. “Lucky for us, Finn here is a bit of a dance master.”

“Is that right?” Bastian dropped his eyes back to Finn, his lazy gaze steadier than before. Finn shifted, shooting a questioning look at the blonde, but Iolo’s face was jovial and blank. “But can he fly a tank?”

“Huh,” Finn mumbled as Iolo dissolved into laughter and Poe grinned toothily.

“No, captain, I don’t think that’s in his skillset,” Poe replied, reaching out and patting Bastian on one of his jittery knees. “Now, I need you to get some sleep.”

“I’m good to go, colonel.”

“Great, you’ll take first shift,” Poe stated with a nod. “Get some rest while you can. We’re heading for Wyoming.”

“In the far and mighty West,” Bastian sang, throwing his arms up, Iolo dodging out of the way easily, “where the crimson sun seeks rest!”

“Shut up, man,” Rose groaned heavily. “I’m not driving across four states with that maniac singing.”

“There’s no accounting for taste,” Bastian sighed, shaking his head and dropping his arms.

“There sure isn’t,” Iolo agreed. “How ‘bout that nap, Bas?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear ya and your three-headed friends,” Bastian griped, getting to his feet in a crouch, he and Iolo changing places with ease. “Do I get a good night kiss?”

Finn’s eyes widened and the lieutenant clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth.

“Sorry, Bas, I don’t think I’ve got one,” the blonde said contritely, patting at his person. “Hang on, what’s this,” Iolo asked rhetorically as he drew a silver-wrapped Hershey’s kiss out of the pocket of his lab coat.

“That’s the five-star service I’m talking about,” Bastian exclaimed, clapping his hands twice and then catching the small candy tossed underhand his way. In a flash, the captain’s expression dropped from ecstatic to deadly serious and Finn clenched his fists. “Did you check for fruit bats,” Bastian asked in a low rumble, staring unblinkingly at the blonde.

“What do you think this is: amateur hour,” Iolo shot back, holding up his hands. “Of course I checked. No fruit bats. Not even a hint of kumquats.”

Bastian’s face lit up instantaneously. “Knew I could count on you, Lo,” the captain winked before turning around and immediately tripping over the bicycle. “Jeez, when did we pick up a two-wheeler?”

“If you ask nicely, maybe Finn will let you take it for a spin,” Iolo called over his shoulder.

“Aw, the corporal’s alright,” came Bastian’s voice over the sound of scuffling. “I bet he’s not stingy about his vehicles.”

“How—did you tell him my rank,” Finn whispered disconcerted to Poe as the shuffling died down and a long, relaxed sigh emitted from the back of the van.

“I did not,” Poe answered mildly. “Iolo?”

“Nope, we didn’t have much time to chat and catch up,” the lieutenant replied, grabbing the discarded straitjacket and shoving it out of sight under his seat.

“Then how did he know,” Finn pressed, keeping his voice hushed.

“Lucky guess,” Rose mumbled, her eyes on the road.

“We stopped asking questions like that a long time ago, corporal,” Poe said with a shrug.

“Right around the time he came back with ten stitches and fluent Mandarin,” Iolo supplied with evident fondness, scrubbing his palms over his face. “Best to roll with it, Finn, and not get too hung up in the details.”

Finn glanced over his shoulder hesitantly, half-expecting to see the captain right there and watching him, but there was nothing except the crates, bike, and a faint snore.

“Fruit bats,” Poe mumbled, Finn sitting back in his seat and looking between the colonel and the lieutenant.

“Must be that time of year,” the blonde responded blasé, shedding the lab coat and glasses.

“Why the change of plans, Lo,” the colonel asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Iolo crossed his arms, not meeting the superior officer’s look. “They had him in full lockdown. I had to improvise.”

“Anything I should be concerned about, lieutenant?”

“No, sir. Some of the docs need a reminder in the Hippocratic oath, that’s all.”

Poe continue to stare until the blonde raised his head and offered a small grimace. The colonel’s shoulders lifted and fell with a deep breath. “Keep me posted, Iolo.”

“Will do.”

“Finn,” Poe said, abruptly shifting focus, “we’ll need a layout of this ranch.”

Accepting the pencil and folded map with a nod, Finn spared another glance at the lieutenant, who had leaned back against the van door with his eyes closed, before saying, “I can do that. Uh, I don’t mind taking a shift. You know, since I’m here.”

“He’s not driving my van,” Rose snapped immediately. “Not him and not the wackadoodle in the back.”

“Understood, Rose,” Poe uttered accommodatingly and unconvincingly, and Finn had to bite back a laugh.

“I’m serious, Poe,” Rose continued firmly. “And what’s more, I’m not getting in anything that mad hatter is piloting. No plane, chopper, hot air balloon, glider, lawn chair with hairdryers--,”

“Lawn chair with _what_ ,” Finn blurted out.

“Don’t ask,” Iolo advised, cracking open an eye. “It was a weird night.”

“—inflatable raft, shipping crate, tractor--,”

“Rose, you’re scaring our guest,” Iolo murmured, sweet as honey, and Finn smirked.

“Not gonna happen,” Finn countered with a chuckle. “I’m just bummed I missed out on the flying inflatable raft.”

“No, you’re not,” Rose stated with certainty.

“It was more of a falling inflatable raft,” Poe conceded with a languid grin.

“And it was _your_ plan, colonel,” Iolo pointed out, closing his eyes again and hunkering down.

“It was. I love it when a plan comes together.”

The two resounding, exasperated moans at those words gave Finn a moment’s pause before he shrugged to himself and unfolded the map of Wyoming over his lap, pencil slipped behind his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! All kudos are cherished and all comments are appreciated and read. I aim to reply to all comments. 
> 
> Stay tuned!


End file.
